


Love Is True In Fairy Tales

by periwinklepromise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shrek Fusion, First Meetings, Gen, Slightly ooc because this idea would work better as fan art but idc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: Locked away in a castle and guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon, Natasha is still waiting for a knight so bold as to rescue herWhen her rescuer finally comes, he's ... a little unorthodox, she must admit
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 13
Collections: Natasha Bingo, Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Love Is True In Fairy Tales

**Author's Note:**

> For Natasha Romanova Bingo square Royalty AU (hey, Fiona is a princess, that totally counts) and Tony Stark Bingo square T5: Natasha Romanova
> 
> **Name of Piece** : Love Is True In Fairy Tales  
>  **Name of Participant** : periwinklepromise  
>  **Card Number** : 3067  
>  **Square Number and Prompt** : T5: Natasha Romanova  
>  **Rating** : Gen  
>  **Pairing** : None  
>  **Warnings** : None  
>  **Summary** : Locked away in a castle and guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon, Natasha is still waiting for a knight so bold as to rescue her. When her rescuer finally comes, he's ... a little unorthodox, she must admit

Natasha holds her pose just as she has practiced for so many years. She lies on her thin mattress above her embroidered blankets, red hair braided and slipped over one shoulder, with her hands clasping a small bouquet of flowers she has sewn from clothes as she'd outgrown them. It has been many years, and she has spent them all preparing for this moment. The grappling hook caught on the only window in her tower is the closest any knight has ever gotten to rescuing her, and this time, she will not lie posed perfectly until she falls asleep and wakes up to no one, and nothing but the foul stench of failure and flame in the air.

She can hear the knight's breathing now, heavy with the hard labor of climbing a tower so tall there are times she feels she can touch the very clouds. Then there is a thud of what she imagines must be his body finally reaching the window and shuffling into her room. She does not move a muscle. She must be pretty as an oil painting, pretty as a lovely poem, for this, the moment when all dreams come true.

She is brimming with hope. Any moment now, he will come close and kiss her sweetly, wake her and carry her gently down the tower, assist her in mounting a noble steed, and press his strong arms around her as they ride fast to his castle to be wedded. There will be flowers and music, and she will wear a color other than green – how she _loathes_ wearing green after all these years of it, why can she not wear the purple befitting her royalty – and it will be everything she has ever dreamed she could have.

Warm hands grip her shoulders – how _good_ it feels to be touched after so many years alone – and she can barely breathe in her excitement.

Then he wrenches her body up and back down to the mattress, and her eyes fly open as she gasps with the force of being shaken so carelessly.

“Princess! Wake up!” His voice is gruff with strain, and his accent is not the delicate one of highborn nobility. Perhaps he earned his knighthood by good fortune? His face is covered by a bird helm, but bright eyes shine through. “Come on, we gotta go!”

He jerks her up to her feet, but she plants them firmly and tugs her hand away. “Halt, Sir Knight!”

He huffs at her – _huffs_! - and slumps against the wall. “Aw, princess, no,” he groans.

This is not at all how she pictured this. “I demand to know the name of my champion.” Has he not read the stories? He is to introduce himself to her, fall on bended knee, and plead for the right to rescue her, and perhaps present her with the tooth of the dragon he has slain. When they flee the castle walls, he is to remove his helmet and bestow upon her true love's first kiss.

“...Hawkeye.”

This must be the reason for his helm, detailed like feathers. “Sir Hawkeye. You have climbed the tower where so many others fell to their deaths, and you have slain the dragon by which so many have been slain. You have my favor,” she presents her token, a dainty lace handkerchief trimmed with scarlet thread, “And my eternal gratitude.”

He takes it with a hesitance that does not belie delicacy nor grace. “Uh. Thanks.” He stares at the handkerchief as if he is confused by its existence. This knight, so brave and strong, with blue eyes as keen as a bird of prey's eyes, with virtues so great and plentiful, she cannot extol them all -

Then there is a tremendous roar, furious and fiery, and she forgets herself to glare at him. “You didn't slay the dragon?!”

He sneers, “It's on my to-do list, okay?”

She sighs. Sometimes it feels she must do everything on her own. So she feeds the knight, prepares her parcel for the journey, and practically forces him out of the window, because he has started to stare longingly at her bed, and she refuses to stay here another night.

She has tried before, to escape on her own. Each time, the dragon stopped her, and she was ill-equipped to fight her way out of this.

Something strange befalls them as they descend. They move as one. He is strong and skilled, showing a focus not in keeping with his confusion concerning courtesies. They outwit the dragon, flee the castle, and now this seems familiar, this scene is as she imagined, because atop a nearby hill, she meets his valiant…

Dog?

She inspects the golden canine with some distaste. “Where's your horse?”

He laughs. “Don't have one.” He removes a gauntlet to pet behind the dog's ears.

“So you brought your _pet_?”

“This is Lucky!” His voice brims with pride.

This Hawkeye – if that is even his name – is certainly not who she has imagined he would be. Perhaps she should refrain from judging a person before she gets to know them.


End file.
